


All Creatures Great and Small

by 0hHeyThereBigBadWolf



Series: A Poem Lovely As A Tree [7]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Baby Animals, Boys In Love, Cryptozoology, Flower Power Critters, Jacob and His Flower Powers, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, The Boys Get A Pet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 05:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17954858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf/pseuds/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf
Summary: They were just supposed to collect some plants for Jenkins. Just some plants. But of course, that is not how it turns out. Librarians and their strays.





	All Creatures Great and Small

Every now and again, they go on missions for the Library that aren’t in the Clippings Book. Well, maybe not strictly for the Library. Mostly for Jenkins. In his lab is a vast assortment of plants used in making potions and spells, and when they run out, he has to leave the Annex to get more. But of course, now with the LITs around, Jenkins doesn’t have to do it himself. And since he and Jacob have somehow become best buds, the cowboy’s the one to do it.

And being the supportive boyfriend he is, Ezekiel’s accompanying him. Which is how he’s ended up in the bloody jungle in bloody Malaysia looking for a grove of some bloody plant that doesn’t grow anywhere else. “This is ridiculous,” he protests, cutting another stem off and stuffing it in a sample jar. “Oi, Stone! You better get your arse over here and help me, or I’ll leave it here!”

The cowboy laughs aloud as he ducks under a branch and approaches him, carrying a knapsack full of the rest of the samples. “Like you would ever—whoa, watch it!” Jacob grabs Ezekiel’s arm and yanks him down as a winged shape leaps out of a tangle of underbrush, aimed at their heads. It overshoots and hits the ground behind them, tumbling over the leaf mat.

“Bloody hell! What is that?”

“No idea.”

They turn to look at the winged shape, now sitting on the ground, tail swishing.

It looks like a dragon in the loosest form of the word in that it has four legs and a set of large wings. But instead of individual scales like a snake, it has soft, leathery skin, almost like suede, and it’s mottled in hues of green, with little splashes of cream and brown. Its head is a softly rounded square, with a blunt muzzle and enormous, dark round eyes that take up most of its face, like an owl. It’s oversized, frilly ears are half the size of Jacob’s palm, and there’s two small nubs of velvet-covered horn between them. Two tiny white teeth protrude from its upper jaw. It looks more like a cat with wings than a reptile.

“What is that?” Ezekiel repeats.

“I mean…a dragon?” Jacob offers.

The thief frowns. “Those are supposed to be huge and havoc-y, though,” he counters, leaning over with hands on his knees. “Wouldn’t Jenkins have told us if we were going into dragon territory anyways?”

“Good point.”

The small…thing…toddles towards Jacob, its ungainly step and oversized feet making him think that it’s a baby whatever-it-is, or at least a very young one. “Uh…hello,” he says, backing up a step. It keeps coming, though, approaching a few more steps every time he tries to back up. “Jonesy, what’s it doing?”

“No idea.”

It finally catches up to Jacob, springing forward and landing on his boot. He tenses as if to kick it off but stops. It’s just a baby, he tells himself. It doesn’t want to hurt him, at any rate, and he’s certain that hurting it would piss off any bigger ones. It just seems fascinated with his bootlaces at the moment. “Uh, call Jenkins, please. You’ve got your tablet, right?”

“Yep, hang on.” The thief kneels down and starts rooting through his knapsack for the tablet.

Staring at the mystery critter that’s currently playing with his laces, Jacob cocks his head curiously. “Hey, Jonesy. You know, this thing kind of looks like that animal we saw in that pit trap. The one we saw on the way here, remember?” he points out. On the hike from the trail, Ezekiel had nearly fallen into a half-collapsed pit trap, no doubt dug a long time ago by hunters. It’d been forgotten, but the spears in it were still very sharp. There’d been a decaying animal at the bottom, impaled on the spikes. Jacob hadn’t been able to tell what it was, but he could see the resemblance now.

“Uh…yeah, a bit, I guess. I dunno. Ah, got it!” Ezekiel comes up with the tablet. “Here, love. Give the old man a ring, I’m going to run back and check on the Jeep. If there’s any other ones, I don’t want them eating the tyres or something.” He hands the tablet to Jacob and heads back through the narrow path they’d taken.

“Ah, Mr. Stone. I see the new devices Cassandra connected to the Library mirrors are working,” Jenkins says when the tablet screen comes to life, showing the silver-haired knight in his lab. “I presume this isn’t simply a field test. Is something wrong? Have you found the plants I sent you for?”

“Yeah, yeah, we found it, everything’s…fine, I guess, but we’ve come across some of the local wildlife.” He turns the tablet around to face the dragon-cat perched on his boot again. “What exactly is this, and should we be worried? We saw a dead one in a pit just a little way away from here, so I’m thinking there’s more.”

“Hm…well, that appears to be a bujanga, Mr. Stone. It’s a pack animal, native to the Malaysian islands, rather docile forest dwellers that live on…fruit and nectar, if I do recall,” Jenkins replies.

“You said pack animals. Should we be worried about a bunch more jumping us when we try to leave or something?” Jacob asks, keeping one eye on the baby dragon—correction, bujanga. It had climbed off his boot in favour of chasing a large, colourful butterfly around the clearing, squeaking in delight. And even if they are herbivores, he knows that any animal protecting its baby could be very dangerous. One of his cousins got four ribs cracked by a mare when he got too close to her foal.

“Unlikely. If there were others, you would have seen them already, as soon as the baby approached you. You said that you found the carcass of an adult in a pit trap?”

“Yeah. I mean, I guess it was an adult. It was about the size of a housecat, but y’know, a big one, like a ragdoll,” Jacob replies.

“Yes, that’d be right. Despite the tales depicting otherwise, the bujanga isn’t a very large animal.” Jenkins nods thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “And that was likely the clan matriarch. If she was killed, that would be reason enough for the clan to relocate to a new area.”

“But why would they leave the baby?”

The old knight spreads his hands in front of him. “Well, their social habits aren’t fully documented, but I imagine that the new matriarch wouldn’t be overly concerned with the welfare of the old one’s offspring.”

Jacob hums thoughtfully, scratching his stubble. Well, more accurately, his beard. He’d passed ‘stubble’ about two days ago. “Like a lion pride. When a new male takes over an existing pride, he’ll kill the other male’s cubs so his own will have a better chance of living,” he suggests. It makes sense.

“Just so, Mr. Stone.”

“Okay, then, new question. Why does it like _me_ so much? Ezekiel was out here for hours and never saw hide or hair of it, but as soon as I show up, the damn thing won’t leave me alone. It’s sticking to me like a burr.” As if to make his point, the bujanga winds itself neatly between his ankles and lays on one of his boots, taking the end of one shoelace in its mouth and chewing on it meditatively.

“Hmm. Hold on one moment, Mr. Stone, let me check one of my books.” The old man walks out of the frame; Jacob looks down at the bujanga. It blinks big owl eyes up at him and _churrs_ softly in its throat, cuddling tighter around his boot. Jenkins reappears in the tablet, this time with a thick book in hand. “Ah, I’ve found it. In the histories of the Malaysian people, the bujanga has a reputation for understanding all creatures and lore in its native forest. It is widely seen as a protector rather than an adversary. And, as with most magical beings, it has the ability to sense and recognise the magic of others. So I say it is very possible that the infant has recognised your magic as similar to its own, and without any other contact, it may have imprinted on you as its mother.”

Jacob blinks. “I’m sorry, _what?”_

“It’s the only logical conclusion I can reach at this point, Mr. Stone. If the clan relocated before the infant hatched, it wouldn’t have any frame of reference for what its own kind should look like. But like calls to like, and it knows you are like it.”

“So, what am I going to do with it now?”

Jenkins closes the book. “That I can’t tell you. If it’s lived this long on its own, I’m certain you can just leave it when you depart.”

“And if it’s not?”

“It will survive or it won’t, Mr. Stone.”

He groans and scrubs a hand over his face. _I wish you hadn’t said that,_ he thinks. His old man used to say things like that when he saw stray dogs and cats wandering around, barely more than puppies and kittens, really, left out by people that didn’t want them, but Jacob had always tried to sneak them food when he could. He still has very distinct memories of stealing fistfuls of kibble from the neighbours’ automatic feeder to give to the strays. He likes animals more than he likes most people. “Okay, thanks, Jenkins. Jonesy and I have about collected everything on that list of yours, so we should be back in town probably tonight for a door.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

The screen goes dark, and Jacob slides the tablet back into his backpack, rubbing his temples. “Son of a bitch.” He looks down at the baby, still snuggling his feet. “You couldn’t even catch a butterfly, how the hell would you live on your own?”

It chirrups at him and scales his leg, digging baby-soft claws into his jeans to climb up onto his lap, pushing its head against his stomach like a cat. Jacob runs a hand down its back, feeling the loose skin on its back move; it turns its head towards his hand, big eyes fixating on his silver bracelets, one paw reaching up to bat at the dangling charms. He shakes his wrist slightly so they jingle, and it chirps in delight, rolling over on its back to grab at them with all four of its feet, clinging to his arm.

Jacob sighs.

 

“Bloody jungles and dragons and shite,” Ezekiel mutters as he trudges back along the ‘path.’ All four tyres on the Jeep are intact, thankfully, and now he needs Jacob to move it along. “I am not made for hiking. I am made for room service and hot tubs. That bloody hippie is going to owe me a bloody backrub after this.”

“Am I?”

He nearly trips on a root when Jacob comes around a thick tree right in front of him. “Wanker, don’t _do_ that!” he hisses, smacking him on the arm. “What are you doing?”

“I got the rest of the samples. We’re good to go.”

Glancing around the ground, he sees no sign of the little beastie anywhere. “Where’s your little tagalong get off to?”

Jacob shrugs, hitching the strap of the knapsack further up his shoulder. “It’s called a bujanga. They’re harmless, Jenkins said it’ll be fine on its own, the adults are probably right around,” he explains with a wave of the hand.

“Good, let’s go. And you do owe me a backrub, hippie. It’s what I deserve, coming along with you on this field trip of yours.”

“Whatever you say.” Jacob’s arm goes around his waist as they walk back to the Jeep.

Ezekiel slips the keys out of the cowboy’s jeans as they approach. “I’m driving this time. I don’t need to get whiplash from you driving like we’re in the Dukes of Hazzard,” he teases; the cowboy rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest as he gets in the passenger side, setting the knapsack on the floor between his feet.

They’re about halfway up the trail when the Jeep lurches over a particularly deep rut; the knapsack thumps against the underside of the dash…and squeaks.

Ezekiel shoots a glance at the knapsack between Jacob’s feet. He downshifts, slows the car to a stop, and sets the brake. The historian makes a point of not meeting his eye as he turns in his seat. “Jacob.”

“Mm?”

“What’s in the bag?”

“The samples.”

“Just the samples?”

“Yep.” _Chirp!_ “Fuck.”

Ezekiel unclips his seatbelt and leans forward, reaching down to unzip the knapsack. The bujanga kitten’s head pops out, blinking at the sudden change in light, chirping at him. He sighs and looks up at Jacob. “Mr. Jenkins said it’d be fine on its own, huh?” he asks.

“I…it’s just a baby, Jonesy. I mean, look at it. And it’s all by itself, too.”

“Jacob…”

“It won’t be that big. It could stay in the townhouse.”

Ezekiel sighs and rubs a hand over his forehead. “I should have known better than to leave you alone with a baby animal. What would we even feed it?”

“They’re frugivores. I have my fruit trees.”

Ezekiel looks down at the kitten; it blinks big eyes at him and chirps loudly, nose twitching. It turns its head to nuzzle against his fingers, still resting against the edge of the knapsack. _Suck-up._ He lets out another sigh, glancing up at Jacob’s almost painfully hopeful expression, putting his puppy-eyes to good use. Retracting his hand, he sits back, puts his seatbelt back on, and lets off the brake, shifting into drive again.

As he navigates the deep ruts and uneven earth, Jacob leans over and kisses his cheek. “Thank you, Jonesy.”

“Uh-huh.” He takes a hand off the wheel for a moment to pat Jacob’s thigh, then resumes his firm grip on the wheel. Jacob scoops the kitten out of the knapsack and cradles it against his chest, stroking its too-big ears. “You know, I don’t think Jenkins will be all that happy when he finds out,” he points out.

Jacob throws him a smile. “You mean _if_ he finds out?”

“Why, Mr. Stone, I do believe I’ve been a bad influence on you.”

 

When they smuggle their interloper home, Jacob names it Thistle. He digs up the book about Malaysian flora and fauna and finds that it’s a female. And that only the female bujanga have magic, which was why she’d imprinted on Jacob instead of Ezekiel. The thief, of course, gets a kick out of that.

Thistle adapts to her new townhouse home well, though the stairs propose a challenge for the first few weeks until she figures out how to scale the balustrade and slide down the rail.

Teaching her not to come into the bedroom when they put her out, though, leads to some very interesting situations. Especially once she figures out how to open doors.


End file.
